Oola's Final Moments
The cold, hard ground rushed up to meet her as the chute deposited her at the bottom of the pit. She tumbled and spun across the sand covered floor before she came to a stop several feet away. Her head spinning she lay there for a moment, feeling the rough sand against her bruised green skin as she tried to regain her bearings. But then noise began to filter from above her, laughter and cheers echoing throughout the large rocky chamber. The poor twi’lek slave lifted her head slowly at the sound, wincing slightly at the pain her movements brought but slowly beginning to move herself from the ground. Looking up she saw the metal grate that made up the ceiling of the pit, the same grate she had spent so much the past month dancing and debasing herself on. But now it was far above her and the dancer’s body began to numb in realization of where she was. So many times she had seen other hapless girls in the position she was now in. Watching from her master’s side she had seen countless slaves look up from the bottom of the pit, their eyes filled with terror as they had begged for a second chance. She had always pitied them but there was nothing she could ever do to save them. Instead she could only turn away as the screams began from down below, spreading her legs so her master could sate the lusts aroused from the show beneath them. She was different from those girls she had reasoned, she was the master’s favorite and he would never throw her away like that. But now she lay in the sand, looking up with the same fear she had seen on the other slaves that the master had found unworthy. A crowd began to form around the grate, the guests of her master who had come to watch her performance that night. Just a few moments before they had cheered and called her name, slipping credit chips into her net costume as she had danced at the end of her master’s leash. Now instead of cheers their voices were raised in mocking laughter and instead of praise all she could hear were degrading insults. More soon joined in pointing and laughing and she could feel tears well in her eyes as her fear and shame grew. Through the tears she looked desperately though the crowd for a sympathetic face, someone that would come to her rescue or call for her release. But there were none. Even her fellow slaves, women she had thought of as sisters and friends, had no pity for her as she found them in the audience. Melinna the harem mistress simply smirked down at her while Jess giggled with excitement in the arms of one of her many lovers. Even Yarna, who she had once confided all of her secrets in, joined the festivities and added her own snorting laughter with the other guests. But then she saw her master. His throne approached the edge of the metal grate slowly but soon his massive form was just above the view port, his glittering orange eyes looking directly down at her. She shivered under his gaze but felt the sudden spark of hope at his presence. In his eyes she could feel the same lust and desire that had always been there when she would perform for him. The same look she would see just before he would tug her chain and call her to finish her “dance” upon his throne. Relief filled her body as she realized master still desired her, still wanted her, and it must have been a mistake when he had pressed the button to send her here. Her body ached as she lifted herself carefully from the floor, knowing she would have several bruises from the fall. She hoped they would not be too unattractive to her master. Praying she looked beautiful despite her fall she brushed the sand from her skin and netting and raised her eyes to the creature that would decide her fate. Pushing her breasts out through the mesh of her costume and pouting her lush lips to make her look as innocent and desirable as possible, she stared longingly up through the grate. “Master… please!” She said loud enough to be heard over the audience. She ran her hands up across her body, one caressing her breasts and the other clasping her sex in an offering to the slug ruler. At first the crowd silenced for a moment and her heart soared at the thought of her master sending his guards to retrieve her. But then came the deep booming laughter, her master’s head thrown back in amusement. The rest of the audience joined in as well and a fresh wave of taunts came tumbling down on the poor girl at the bottom of the pit. Her initial shock was quickly overcome by shame and confusion, and she covered her face with her hands to escape the cruel faces of her tormentors. She fell back to the ground weeping into her hands as she tried to understand why this was happening to her. Hadn’t she given everything to her master? Hadn’t the virginity, honor, and dignity she had thrown away to please him earned her nothing? Did he no longer find her beautiful or had she done something wrong? If he only told her what she had done wrong she could fix it… serve him better… please him more… But then the sound of screeching metal interrupted her thoughts. Her breath caught in her chest and she slowly lowered her trembling hands and turned to the other side of the pit. The massive door that took up the east corner was slowly lifting and she knew what was waiting on the other side. Lifting herself again on shaky feet she backed slowly away from the door, unable to turn away as it reached the top with a dull thud. Her breath came out in short gasps as she waited, frozen in fear. At first there was nothing but then came a deafening roar that shook her to the very core. Her face contorted in fear and she screamed out at the top of her lungs as the beast emerged from the inky blackness. It was massive, far larger than she could have imagined when she had only watched it from above. It was the size of a several story building with claws and teeth that she had seen rip though dewback or bantha hides. She had also seen what it did to small, defenseless slave girls and knew exactly what was in store for her. It’s small hungry eyes fell on her as it stepped into the light of the grate, drool dripping from its glinting fangs. At first her legs wouldn’t move, her body not responding as she tried to tell it to run. It was only when the beast was looming over her, its shadow falling over her trembling form, did she finally find herself moving across the sands. Desperately she ran toward the chute she had fallen from, hoping she could crawl back in where the creature couldn’t reach her . She stumbled once on something hard and metal but was able to steady herself, the back of her mind registering that she had almost tripped on the metal brassier of some former slave that had been sent to the pit. All the while the crowd cheered the monster on from above continuing to hurl insults at the unfortunate dancer. She barely registered them, too focused on reaching her goal. She felt like she was moving in slow motion through the sand and she kept feeling as if the creatures claws were closing in around her. But she finally made it to where she had fallen… only to find that bars had closed off her only escape route. She grasped the bars and franticly pulled on them, sobbing at the hopelessness of her situation. They would not open and now she was trapped. She looked up one last time toward her master as he slobbered and laughed with the rest of his minions, silently begging him to open the grate and protect her. But he only looked back with cruelty and amusement, licking the air before him as a farewell to his once favored plaything. It was then that she noticed the sharp claws tightening around her lithe form, feeling the sand beneath her feet fall out beneath her. She screamed in pure terror as she was hoisted in the air, her legs kicking and body squirming as she tried to get free. It was no use and she was soon brought fully to the rancor jaws. The beast, however, did not eat her immediately but held her before him, allowing his hot breath to wash over her. The slave looked into the horrific face of the monster and into the soulless eyes that regarded her with mindless hunger. As its mouth of razor teeth began to open she screamed again, long and hopeless, but was soon silenced by the answering roar of her devourer. It lifted her above its head and into light filtering in from the throne room. Looking into the gaping mouth below her it all became too much for the doomed dancer, her eyes fluttering and her body going limp in the creatures gasp. She hung unconscious as it lowered her to her mouth only waking for a few seconds as the jaws closed around her slender waist. Her last scream was far shorter than the others, muffled but still audible to the spectators above. The hutt and his servants watched the dancers long sculpted legs wriggle for a few moments and then fall still just before the rancor opened its mouth to swallow the rest of the slave’s body. Another loud cheer rose from the crowd in appreciation of the show and then the mass of criminals began to disperse back to their respective corners of the throne room. The hutt took a paddy frog from the brandy vat that he kept near the armrest of his throne, dropping it messily into his wide mouth in an imitation of his favorite beast’s actions below. His tail was hard with arousal, just as it always was after feeding his rancor one of his beautiful delicacies. For a moment he missed his green slut’s holes, which had always been wet and eager for him when he had needed to release his more carnal desires. But he brushed that aside knowing he had a near endless supply of possible replacements waiting for him in his ever-growing harem. Even now, looking out through the crowd, he could see several possible candidates for his leash. The white twi’lek singer looked quite tasty… and the red harried dancer seemed feisty… and who knows maybe some lovelier creature was about to step through his archway this very moment… Below the rancor lumbered back to its cage, a piece of black netting still clinging to its teeth. Slowly the fabric fell from its jaws and fluttered to the dusty floor to lie amongst the countless bones of the monster’s other victims. It was the only thing that remained of the poor dancer to show that she had even passed through the palace at all. For a few days the guests would talk and laugh of her demise but those conversations ended as well. Soon very few could recall her name and the tragic tale of Oola, the doomed dancer, faded from memory.